The Evolution Master's Assistant
by Dimachaeron
Summary: "New strain: metamorph. Modified changeling. Jorium requirement unsustainable, inefficient. Unsuccessful." Abathur's once failed experiment, now personal essence hound and assassin, is recalled to Zerus to help his creator. Despite their differences, the evolution master and his assistant must now work together to adapt the zerg to the challenge of fulfilling their queen's revenge.
1. Chapter 1

"Unclear."

"Don't you 'unclear' me, Abathur. Tell me, what exactly is in need of _clarification_?"

"Events predicted by organism Xeroth: implausible. No logical connection found."

"Alright you overgrown slug, let me put this to you in words you'll understand. If something like this happens _one_ more time, organism Xeroth is going to _impale_ organism Abathur. See the connection now? No personal overlord next time, and I'll make sure you meet the Overmind again."

"Unclear."

Oh, how I wished I could stab something just then. If only I wasn't being suffocated from all sides by chittering, purple acid-sacs of death. They clamored on, seemingly unbothered by the cramped environment of the overflowing ventral sac. At least the overlord seemed to share my discomfort, not that it made me feel any better knowing that I would be taking a dive into a searing lake of lava if the old brain-blimp decided its cargo was not worth the trouble.

Abathur couldn't take a hint. Despite being a diabolically clever and ruthlessly efficient engine of genetic terrors, the swarm's evolution master seemed to possess absolutely no faculties of inference. "Make me ride in the baneling bus again, and you'll be meeting your dead maker," had seemed like a pretty non-unclear statement to me at the time. Apparently not.

"I'm going to kill you Abathur. I'm going to kill you."

To my disappointment, I didn't sense any fear over our connection. Maybe I wasn't being convincing enough.

"What? You don't think I'll do it? Well believe it buddy, there's a reckoning coming for you if I don't start getting some first class space fare post-haste. How would you like it if I shove my protoplasm down your throat and morph a few barbs to rip out your precious internal strand weavers?"

Even with his limited emotional expressiveness, Abathur sounded smug. "Organism Abathur exceeds organism Xeroth. Body irrelevant, only essence matters. Organism Abathur's essence: secure. Multiple contingencies in place. Cannot kill."

Of course. Abathur was currently the oldest living member of the zerg swarm. He possessed far more power than he usually let on. His psionics were subtle and organic, akin to the brand practiced by the late cerebrates. I had witnessed Abathur reconstitute dead zerg with nothing but a thought, and fill structures with so much vital energy that they withstood a barrage of bullets and siege tank shells without losing so much as a drop of blood. On a daily basis, Abathur micromanaged seed broods spread across the sector, and extracted the information contained in essence telepathically over great distances. It was no surprise to me then that he would be able to transfer his own essence into another body if need be.

The evolution master was cunning, and brutally efficient. Had he possessed even an iota of initiative, it was likely he could have taken the swarm for his own after the Overmind's demise. Fortunately for the now rather humanized queen, Abathur was only interested in his work, and left the conquering of planets to the less enlightened. Unfortunately for poor old me, he was completely uninterested in the comfort of his tools. Hence the current situation: not enough oxygen, too much baneling.

I had been created a little over a year ago. Abathur personally crafted my essence by modifying the then-new changeling genus. My protoplasm had been stabilized by a high-dose infusion of jorium. A moment after my conception, I had my first experience with Abathur's obsession with efficiency. Upon emerging from a cocoon, the first words I heard were, "New strain: metamorph. Modified changeling. Jorium requirement unsustainable, inefficient. Unsuccessful."

Fortunately for me, it wasn't my design that Abathur deemed a failure, but my production cost. Had it been any other way, I would have been dissolved in one of the reclamation vats, instead of being sent across the sector doing errands in the name of evolution and the swarm.

In this instant however, I was becoming increasingly concerned that being dissolved was my inevitable fate, given the constant pressure of the bloated "hunter strain" banelings piled around and on top of me. My fears were seemingly unfounded however. Even though banelings looked like balloons, they luckily didn't pop like them. Their carapaces were well adapted to a little squishing.

Not a moment too soon, the overlord opened its sacs and dumped its cargo onto the fleshy surface of the juvenile leviathan Abathur had left me with. Sighing in relief, I brushed the creep off my body and made my way to the nerve center to inform Abathur I had arrived. Luckily the worm didn't hold grudges, let alone understand the concept of a grudge. Had I made the threats I had in the overlord to another sentient zerg, things would have been a little awkward.

When I did reconnect telepathically with my creator, he surprised me. "Have considered request. Additional overlord deemed acceptable."

Now, I'd seen some things in my year of existence. Serving as Abathur's personal essence collector and assassin, I had traveled across the sector, infiltrated dozens of Terran and Protoss scientific facilities, and consumed some rather eccentric individuals. Nothing would have prepared me for this.

"I'm sorry, there must be a nebula between us or something. I could have sworn you just…"

"Will repeat. Additional overlord deemed acceptable for future planetary extraction. Cramped environment unconducive to metamorph's digestion mechanism."

Well at least he wasn't doing this out of altruism. Apparently being crushed by hunter banelings didn't help me assimilate the Terrans I had consumed on Scoria. One of the more interesting aspects of my normal set of duties on a given essence run was the consumption of nearby sentient life. By assimilating essence into myself, I could grow stronger and extract knowledge and memories from the one consumed. I never quite understood how this worked. Abathur had explained to me something about essence transcending genetics and nervous system function, but it didn't really help, given that my understanding of essence itself was still shaky.

Still, he had given me an inch here. Maybe I could take advantage of his generous mood. I had been preparing a little argument in my head from the moment the overlord had taken me from the surface of the volcanic rock. I feigned entitlement, saying, "About time you decided bringing one more overlord wasn't so _inefficient_, considering the queen just blew up half of our successful specimens to see what they could do. Where's the efficiency in that?"

Abathur's usual monotone had a slight flavor of regret mixed in. "Queen requires demonstration of strain viability. Does not accept verbal description of augmented strain characteristics. Must obey."

"Alright I get it, not your fault. Don't sound so sad. You'll actually make me feel sorry for you, and by the Overmind, I don't want that! Still, even if it didn't help my digestion, what's the harm in bringing an extra overlord when we have plenty?"

"Organism Azara not designed for brood control. If leviathan attacked, will require overlords to coordinate defense. Also, Xeroth brood's purpose requires frequent deep space travel. Must conserve energy. Planetary stops inefficient." Abathur drones on. Of course, there's no point arguing with a thousand-year-old zerg mastermind. If only I had known that before devouring one too many rebellious terrans.

Oh well, at least I'd still get the overlord, even if I couldn't feel self-righteous about it. "Alright, I understand. Thanks for nothing. Final count of hunters is 34, could have had almost double if Kerrigan wasn't so keen on blowing up that command center. I could have done that myself, you know."

"Number irrelevant, only…"

"Only essence matters, yeah, yeah. Anything more I can do for you?"

"Presence required. Queen's leviathan, traveling to planet Zerus. Home of primal zerg. Will require samples. This, your function."

With that, Abathur cut the connection, leaving behind the coordinates of this "Zerus" place. I felt a presence behind me and instinctively morphed a little taller, broadening the shoulders of my current humanoid form. It was a silly instinct, but given the amount of terrans I'd consumed, my subconscious couldn't help trying to impress Azara, even though her being female started and ended with her voice, just as my gender was just a byproduct of the fact that I encountered and consumed male terrans more than females.

Azara lowered herself into the nerve center of the leviathan. Her tranquil voice clashed with her fierce appearance and sharp impaling tendrils. Like a terran adjutant, she cut no corners, immediately getting down to business.

"Would you like the leviathan to warp to these coordinates?"

"Yes, thank you Azara. It seems we're going to be working up close with the boss bug," I muttered with distaste. I felt uncomfortable with the fact that we were going to be on the same planet as Abathur. I always got this feeling that he would have me dissolved if he found a more "efficient" use for my essence and its precious high jorium content. I figured that if I kept myself useful and halfway across the sector gathering essence, I could avoid that fate.

The good thing about Azara was that once there was nothing around to trigger her advisor instinct, she wasn't completely emotionless. Sympathetically, she reassured me, "I doubt you'll have to enter the pit. Abathur's more than capable of extracting information telepathically, especially over a distance as small as a single planet."

"I certainly hope so."

"Aren't you excited to meet the queen? It is our first time, after all."

I chuckled wistfully. "I doubt she really knows much of my existence. She's probably peripherally aware of me, but I'm not important enough to really deserve her attention. I'm just another one of Abathur's experiments, and an unsuccessful one at that."

It was the truth. If the universe were a bakery, Abathur would have his hands in every single pie. One would expect nothing less from an organism with the mental capacity of a cerebrate that spent every fiber of its consciousness finding opportunities across the sector to improve the swarm. In any case, his work was too extensive for Kerrigan to keep tabs on. She would review the highlights once in a while, but not much more than that.

Seemingly unphased by my pessimism, Azara went on to say, "I wonder if I will meet Izsha. There are so few of our type in the swarm."

"You do have a pretty niche role," I agreed. Azara was some form of advisor strain based on the new type of queens as well as some other organisms. She specialized in compiling data from multiple sensory inputs such as overlords and the leviathan, and distilling them into useful tactical bites. However, as Abathur had mentioned, her ability to micromanage zerg was limited. As such, there were only a couple others like her, such as Izsha, who advised the Queen of Blades directly and even stored her memories and schemes. Usually, broodmothers were considered a more versatile and efficient use of essence.

I was glad to have Azara with me though. Broodmothers were just too bellicose for me, always vying for dominance and rambling on about whose will was the strongest. No, Azara was mild yet competent, and I wouldn't trade her for any juiced up broodmother, hyperactive ovaries or not. My missions usually didn't require a swarm to be birthed on the spot anyway.

No, I was a more subtle agent of the swarm. I worked mostly alone, helping my master chase perfection on distant planets, hunting exotic species, impersonating the latest genius scientist… these were the things I was good at. Fighting on the forefront of Kerrigan's personal brood? Not so much. To my dismay, I was being taken from my comfortable perch in the shadows and thrust right into the heart of the swarm.

* * *

><p><em>Alright, well I hope you enjoyed that. Please review and feel free to PM me any questions you might have. Here's a few notes about the story and where it's headed:<em>

_-Xeroth is the main protagonist, and his physiology is somewhat inspired by the prototype games. Just think: durable changeling. As for what he goes around looking like, it changes but I'd say he spends most of his time as a large humanoid. Facial features are up to your own imagination. He could look like you, for all I care._

_-The story will take place during the whole Heart of the Swarm timeline at least, and will maybe go on, depending on how people like it. However, don't expect a novelization of the campaign missions. You might see some evolution missions though._

_-This isn't a romantic fiction. Xeroth might flirt around with Azara once in a while, but that's just part of his personality and is nothing serious._

_-I will interpret Kerrigan as she appears in the game. I won't try to make her a hero, as she certainly doesn't come off as one._


	2. Chapter 2

The inner cavities of the leviathan were relatively peaceful, for the nightmarish creatures borne in the belly of the great space beast were mostly dormant, conserving energy. Only a skeleton crew was active, ready to deal with the unlikely event of a hostile boarding. Of course, the chances of that were minimal, so in the spirit of zerg efficiency, the precautions matched the danger. As such, the active zerg consisted of myself, Azara, and two zerglings.

It was a situation I was quite content with. I had always been fond of space travel. Something about the incomprehensible vastness of the void felt comforting. I knew that if the swarm ever found itself backed into a corner, it could simply disappear into the space between the stars. In this sanctuary, we could wait out any hardship. Time was always on our side, as befitted an eternal predator such as the swarm.

I could only assume that our queen understood this fact; that she had overcome the shortsightedness of her terran origins and had developed the capacity to think on the scale of the zerg. At the moment she seemed to be responding properly to our recent defeat on Char, by taking the zerg far from the Koprulu to sector in order to find essence with which to out-evolve our foes. Time would tell.

My little contemplation was broken by the chittering of an approaching zergling. I looked up, and smiled a little bit.

"Oh hey buddy, didn't realize it was your shift."

I held out my hand and the zergling slowly approached, a guttural growl emerging from its throat. Catching on to my favorite little berserker's behavior, I retract the hand and shake a finger at the critter.

"Alright Scar, calm down. I know I smell like Terran now - and I can't help it that I'm digesting 12 or so of those pathetic flesh-sacs – but I don't need to remind you what happened last time you tried to eat a piece of me," I warn the zergling. It stares back at me with pitiful eyes, and if it weren't for the vicious intelligence I see behind them, I'd feel sorry for the little bugger.

Realizing that the cute pet look didn't work on me anymore, Scar gave a little huff of disappointment and padded over to my side, letting me run a hand along his horn. "That's better boy. I'll save you a little tendon or bone marrow next time." Of course, I knew my companion was neither a boy nor a girl, but I felt like the zergling had a decidedly masculine personality.

Scar was one of those rare specimens in the swarm. Having survived two encounters with zealots, he had adapted a hardened carapace. His third encounter was not so fortunate however, and he was left for dead, riddled with the telltale cauterized wounds of psi-blades all over his body. This was the condition I found Scar in when I first met him.

Abathur, with his seemingly nigh-omniscient awareness of the happenings of the swarm, had somehow discovered the fact that a single zergling had developed a useful mutation. Of course, this meant another essence run for me. With me acting as his synapse, Abathur was able to examine the particulars of Scar's mutation and refine it to his liking. As per protocol, I was expected to consume the dying zergling and await my next assignment.

But when I looked upon the broken body in front of me, I decided I just had to defy Abathur's rigorous standards of efficiency. Scar was a survivor; he was something new yet not quite good enough for Abathur. I saw myself in the little beast, and so instead of consuming his essence to augment my own, I sacrificed a little bit of my essence to make his whole.

It was harmless enough, saving a mere zergling and losing out on some efficiency, but it was definitely not my master's style. When one lived as long as Abathur, every perfectly distributed usage of biomass and energy over every moment of every day added up to a lot. Still, I allowed myself little freedoms from time to time, and in this case I was glad for it. Zerglings actually could develop something of a personality given a life span of over a couple hours.

"Grrrr."

Unfortunately, even given a few months, they still struggled to express themselves.

"Is that a yes or no Scar?"

"Grr."

I chuckled. We were having a conversation about the new Hunters, and whether or not they were truly superior to the Splitters that Abathur had developed on Nelyth. Scar's opinion, so far as I could decipher, was one of indifference provided he didn't have to be morphed into one himself.

"Don't worry little buddy, I won't let that happen to you. Although, purple's kind of your color isn't it?"

At this, Scar growled and fluttered his wings a little.

"No? I mean, you've got a little purple going on with your carapace. Maybe you've got some Jormungand Brood heritage in your DNA after all."

Our conversation, if it could qualify as one, was interrupted by Azara pinging telepathically that I was needed in the nerve center. I hadn't expected to arrive so soon, but stood up and began walking anyway. Scar trailed a little behind me, having nothing better to do.

When we arrived at the nerve center, the protective membrane was open, showing nothing but blackness and stars outside. I was pretty sure Zerus was not some random stretch of deep space, so this signaled to me that we had either exited warp space prematurely, or had arrived between Zerus and its star.

"What's the situation Azara? I thought those coordinates were a little more distant. We've only been in warp space for a day."

Azara's tone of voice was concerned, yet focused. "You're right, the coordinates for Zerus are very distant. They're not even in the sector."

"Outside the sector? Does this leviathan even have enough energy for that sort of jump?" I asked, incredulous.

"Do you think I've stopped in deep space and brought you here for no reason?"

Suddenly the situation became clear to me. The leviathan was quite young, and didn't have the energy storage capacity necessary to maintain warp travel long enough to take us to Zerus. We'd need to find a planet with a suitable atmosphere for the leviathan to feed upon, as well as some psionically active substance to sustain the organ responsible for warp.

After considering our options, I reached a decision. "Morph a few overseers, and see if they can detect any inorganic psionic waveforms in the nearby star systems. Specifically attune them to the frequencies of jorium and terrazine." Of course, I could always just use my own essence to feed the organic warp drive, but cutting off a limb hurt like no tomorrow, so I preferred to avoid that if necessary.

Speaking of things that were painful to me, I had to inform Abathur that we'd be delayed. Closing my eyes and concentrating, I established the all-too-familiar telepathic connection with my master. Upon sensing that I had his attention, I got straight to the point.

"Abathur, we're going to be a few days behind schedule. Our leviathan doesn't have enough juice to warp to your coordinates. We're morphing a few overseers to tune in to the surrounding psionic soundscape, but it might take a while to find a suitable energy source."

The evolution master's voice thundered in my mind. He sounded angry, showing an uncharacteristic amount of emotion in his speech.

"Have anticipated. Maintain position. Rendezvous with Kilysa Brood leviathan. Will transport to Zerus."

This was unusual. It certainly was a lot more efficient to spend a few days re-energizing our current leviathan than to scramble one from broodmother Kilysa. Abathur must have really wanted me on Zerus.

"Is everything alright Abathur? Did you spill some lemon juice on a zergling or something? You sound flustered."

"Primal zerg: unacceptable. Replicating zerg traits, must be eradicated."

"Whoa there, calm down. You're giving me a headache, shouting in my head like that. So what do you want me to do? Just show up to Zerus and start slaughtering left and right? You know that's not my style."

"Organism Xeroth has demonstrated combat viability on multiple occasions. Predict that metamorph strain potential maximized in prolonged stress environment."

It was actually kind of heartwarming in a way, to think that Abathur was giving me his version of the "you can be anything you want to" talk. The only thing was that he was using it to justify my potential as an efficient rampaging juggernaut.

"Why don't you just stick a couple spine crawlers on an ultralisk's back, and send a few of those monstrosities after the primals? You know what, don't answer that – I know what you're going to say. But really Abathur, I'm not built for _eradication_, if that's what you want."

"Versatility: central component in metamorph design. Also, original purpose remains. Eradicate primal zerg. Consume essence. Will use to evolve swarm."

With that, Abathur cut the connection, leaving my head buzzing with his residual anger. This was a side to the old zerg that I had never seen before: possessiveness. I knew I was about to see a lot more action in the near future.

Scar had taken advantage of my temporary disorientation to nibble at one of my fingers. I swatted him away a little harder than I intended to. The zergling yelped and scampered to the other side of the nerve center.

I sighed, collecting myself. "Sorry Scar, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm just a little nervous, that's all."

"You'll be fine," Azara reassured me. "Abathur is right about you. You adapt faster than any other zerg. You'll adapt to Zerus."

Sometimes I wondered if the advisor strain had been designed to make zerg commanders feel good about themselves. It certainly wasn't out of the question for the Queen of Blades to design a creature with traits that would support her ego. Programming or not though, Azara still managed to instill a little confidence in me.

It wasn't so much that I was afraid of fighting on the front lines, but that I was uneasy of doing so with so many command strain zerg around. I had been designed to be a type of zerg that took an active role in furthering my own evolution. As such, I had a few more individualistic tendencies than the average meat shield in the swarm. Still, it was a biological imperative that I obeyed orders, so if some bloodthirsty broodmother decided to throw me into a hailstorm of needle spines to further the needs of the swarm, there was nothing I would be able to do about it.

I knew that broodmother Zagara had accompanied Kerrigan to Zerus. Her tactics were brutal, and placed next to no value on the life of any individual zerg. If my path were to cross with her brood's mission, it could be the end of me. The zerg almost always won battles of attrition, but I had no interest in being involved in one.

Another telepathic signal pinged its way into my awareness. It was broodmother Kilysa.

"I am sending one of my largest leviathans to your location. It should arrive shortly. Have your current leviathan set course to Mistaff IV after the transfer is completed."

Abathur certainly didn't mess around. Our journey would continue relatively unhindered, though it definitely did seem like a massive waste of resources to swap out leviathans so liberally. I knew my creator must have been really serious about eradicating the primal zerg to behave in such an unusually wasteful and hasty fashion.

Scar, who was now lying under Azara's perch, suddenly perked up. I knew that our ride was arriving. Zerglings were particularly psionically sensitive, so Scar would easily be able to sense another leviathan exiting warp space a few moments before myself.

The new leviathan was a true monstrosity. It was about four times larger than the one we were on. That was really saying something, given that my baby of a leviathan already matched a purifier mothership. Kilysa was truly a master of breeding these deep space creatures. I glanced at Azara, grinning.

"So yesterday I was asking Abathur for permission to ride in an overlord. Well, look at me now."

* * *

><p><em>Thank you to those who showed interest be following, favouriting, reviewing and PMing. You inspired me to stay up until morning to get this chapter out to you, so I hope you like it. Kilysa's allegiance to the swarm might be very slightly too early, I hope that doesn't bother anyone too much. Enjoy!<em>

_Also, how is Abathur not a selectable character to tag the story with? This is an insult to the swarm! EDIT: On December 18th Abathur was added! Spread the word, underlings!_


	3. Chapter 3

Scar the zergling was on edge. Attack claws unfurling from his back, he stalked up to the strange object in front of him. It reeked of terran metal, the kind that was fun to slash through but not tasty at all like flesh. A few more steps, and it would be in range. Almost there…

"Scar, don't touch that," a stern, yet melodious voice chided him. Scar looked up to see Azara descending from her perch in their new leviathan's nerve center. She was on top of the object! What if it exploded?!

Scar chittered and frantically darted in a circle. Didn't the advisor know she was in danger? Perhaps she didn't possess the battle instincts of a zergling. That damn terran contraption. Maybe he could pounce it before anything bad happened. Muscles tensing like a coiled spring, Scar prepared to leap under Azara to save her from the terran threat.

* * *

><p>I arrived in the nerve center just in time to catch my favorite zergling by the tail as he made a dive for the cargo Kilysa had charged us to deliver to Zerus. Scar turned on me, squealing. He was in full panic mode at this time, and I had no choice but to toss him out of the nerve center and close the organic bulkhead behind him. The leviathan groaned in pain as Scar began clawing at the fleshy barrier.<p>

"Poor little thing. I don't blame him though," I said, looking up at Azara. She was hanging from the top of the nerve center, above the device Kilysa had left with her leviathan. Apparently the terrans had launched thousands of them at our forces on Char. They appeared to be non-threatening. In any case, we were to deliver this one to Izsha on Zerus.

At this time, I opened up the bulkhead with a thought, and let Scar back in. I had been comforting him with subtle psionic emanations. It was a skill I had always had, taken from the genetic knowledge of the changeling template I was based off of.

"The terran device… do you think it is of importance?" Azara asked me.

"I don't know. I have a bad feeling about it though."

"Really? I have analyzed it thoroughly and I cannot decipher anything about it." She sounded somewhat ashamed, like she had failed to fulfill her purpose. In reality, I was the one who was supposed to know what it was. What good were some two dozen essence runs' worth of assimilated terran memories if they couldn't even help me identify the latest oversized paperweight?

"Oh no, this isn't something based off of any evidence. It's what the terrans would call a 'gut feeling.' Intuition, you know?"

"You have evolved a 'gut' after assimilating terran essence? And this organ is capable of advanced analysis? Xeroth, I know you find it unpleasant, but it is your directive to report such things to Abathur. Such an organ could be useful for the swarm."

I chuckled. Azara might have had some terran DNA incorporated in her design, but her heart was pure zerg.

"No, no. That's not exactly how it works. Intuition doesn't come from the gut. I think in Terrans it comes from their brain. Their minds have a lot of subconscious thoughts that are always in the background, making obscure and broad connections between things."

"That does not seem to me like an optimal usage of mental capacity."

"Yeah, well their minds don't exactly have to maintain a species-wide psionic web all the time, so things like intuition happen. Oh, and would you believe that they hallucinate while they sleep? Sometimes every night!"

Azara looked at me in awe. "Please, Xeroth. You know I'm not very good with – what do you call it? Sarcasm?"

"Eh… I don't know if sarcasm would be the right word for it if I were not being completely serious. But I am! I promise, I'm not pulling your tendrils on this one. It's called dreaming."

"So they just see and hear things that are not real while they sleep?"

"Pretty much."

At this moment, I saw that Scar was getting a little bit restless, and was eyeing the terran device a little maliciously. Hastily, I fired off a tendril of protoplasm from my hand and tugged the mystery machine into my grasp. Just to be safe. Azara appeared to be thinking deeply, and I could tell she was still pondering the oddities of the terran subconscious. I knew it was wise not to tell her that I had developed quite the subconscious of my own through my assimilation of consumed terrans. She would surely be on my case like a hatchery overlord directing a gathering drone, probing for pathological defects in my psyche if I did.

"You know Azara, the Overmind was capable of an extensive amount of subconscious activity. In fact, if its corpse is still intact, it's possible that this background neural noise is still occurring."

Any response my friend might have had to that observation was lost as a psionic flash hit me and the rest of the leviathan's occupants with the force of a charging ultralisk. Even the leviathan itself groaned in displeasure, and lurched slightly, nearly causing me to lose my balance. Azara's instincts kicked in as she went into full advisor mode.

"High amplitude psionic emanation detected. I am bringing the leviathan out of warp space and awakening zerg in stasis."

"Talk to me Azara. What are we dealing with?"

"That appeared to be the wave-front of some massive psionic event. It was extremely transient in nature, and has all but completely died down now."

I wondered what could have caused this event. Most psionic waveforms originated from a source, and emitted steadily at a telltale frequency. There was nothing I knew of that manifested as a single peak with nothing else.

"Could it be a warp rift opening?" I asked Azara. It was the only type of psionic event that I could imagine that might possibly fit the bill of a one-time disturbance.

My advisor shook her head. "I'm not detecting any corresponding gravitational anomalies."

"Scan the hivemind for similarities and let me know if you find a potential match," I told her. Meanwhile, I opened the optical shield membrane to get a look around. Just another unfamiliar array of stars.

The hivemind was my term for the shared memories of the swarm. If any zerg currently loyal to the same higher power as myself and Azara had experienced the same type of psionic event we had, we would know within minutes.

"I have one match to the general shape of the wave-front. It doesn't have anywhere near the same amplitude and there's a bit of an interference pattern, but there's nothing else I can find. Unfortunately, the memories I can access since the swarm was shattered on Char are extremely limited and recent."

"Tell me about it."

"The ice moon Kaldir. The Queen of Blades reawakened a small hive cluster there."

Azara telepathically communicated the relevant information to me. I nodded my head, understanding.

"The interference patterns are coming from the fact that multiple zerg were reawakened. De-convolve the signal and…"

I whistled in awe. "Wow. That's an exact match, but as you said, nowhere near the amplitude we need. So our best guess is that we're dealing with some massive consciousness reawakening. Have you located the source of the pulse yet?"

"Yes… It came from Zerus!"

That couldn't be good. We were still too far from Zerus to directly access sensory information from the zerg that were planet-side, so I couldn't tell if this reawakening had anything to do with the swarm's involvement. To my dismay, I would have to contact Abathur again.

"Alright Azara, let's get the leviathan back into warp space while I contact the old worm to see what's going on."

As Azara directed our biological vessel to continue the journey, I searched the hivemind for the familiar strand of Abathur's consciousness. Interestingly, it was distorted by some massive, local psionic waveform. I could only guess that this was the entity that had been reawakened. Unfortunately, I wouldn't be able to establish a precise communication link with the interference. I could broadcast a question to the planet, but didn't feel like letting whatever else was on Zerus know of my presence.

If I had been uncertain before about this whole Zerus venture, it definitely didn't prepare me for the doubts running through my head at the moment. Was I making the right decision by continuing to Zerus? That consciousness, if it really was one, felt stronger even than the Queen of Blades. Perhaps it would be wiser to keep myself and the zerg under my command secure in case the swarm needed to recover after another defeat.

My brood, if it could be classified as such, was really a mishmash of more exotic zerg creatures. Abathur had entrusted me with collecting the occasional hyper-rare mutant strains that sometimes arose in the gene pool. At this moment, they were hibernating within their egg pods and cocoons that I had transferred to this leviathan's underbelly. In addition, when one of the zerg strains encountered a diverging evolutionary path, I would pick up some specimens of the strain rejected by Kerrigan's brood. The idea was that if I had extra time, I could visit a nearby broodmother so they could incorporate the alternative augmented strain into their brood's gene pool. I hadn't yet had such an opportunity.

So here I was, with a leviathan full of important and rare zerg strains, heading toward a planet with a being of uncertain power. If I went through with this, it would be putting a fair portion of the swarm's literal eggs in the same figurative basket.

Ironically, my only comfort was the beacon of Abathur's consciousness on Zerus. Though distorted, it was very much alive. I figured that if he wasn't moving away from the planet, I had less to worry about. Keeping my focus on Abathur's presence, I calmed myself and began examining my own strands and sequences, thinking of how I could best modify myself to be prepared for the challenges ahead.

"You know Scar," I remarked, looking over at my vicious little friend. "These primal zerg are really starting to piss me off."

Sometimes I just talked to the zergling as a way of winding down when I needed to refocus my mind. Scar knew this, and didn't bother responding to me with any well-intentioned yet nigh-indecipherable predatory sounds.

"What's wrong you ask? Well, thank you for asking, you're a real champ."

Scar stretched his attack claws a little, scratched some stray creep off of his wing, and grumbled lowly, shifting around a little.

"I'd say their crime is existing. I mean, who do they think they are, causing me to go so far out of my comfort zone like this?"

The zergling examined one of his front claws. Apparently not finding it sharp enough, he began to scrape it against his horn, using the appendage as a makeshift file.

"What do you mean I wouldn't exist without the primals?"

No response.

"You know what? I don't need to take this logic crap from you. I'm going to talk to Azara."

Having finished grooming himself, Scar had already fallen asleep. Zerg only needed to rest very occasionally, but even when it wasn't necessary, voluntary sleep was a legitimate method of conserving energy.

And so with such interactions between its inhabitants occurring occasionally throughout each day, the leviathan continued its journey through warp space, coming closer and closer to the planet Zerus.

* * *

><p>In one of the Zerusian forests, a lone beast stalked through the underbrush warily. It did not belong to any pack. This was a decision that befit the spirit of the primal zerg, but was becoming increasingly dangerous now that the corrupted ones had arrived. The beast was alone, save for the children it incubated in its body. They would protect it in a time of need.<p>

The creature knew it was not safe here. The oppressive presence of the corrupted shared-mind was especially heavy in this area. That, and the now awakened ancient devourer of essence. Every primal zerg rightfully feared that one, for it had become powerful by consuming their like. Yes, this was not a safe place to be at all.

What the lone primal zerg did not notice was what had appeared to be a local creature, behind him, slowly morphing into something larger. Zerus was home to a small collection of non-zerg fauna, and the primal zerg usually paid no heed to them, as they were not a threat, and their essence was not worth collecting. For the individual primal currently quickening its pace, sensing something foreign near, this ignorance would be fatal.

Suddenly, the beast found itself wrapped in black and purple tendrils. Squealing in panic, it attempted to spawn its children, calling upon them to be born into this world and save their creator. But the tendrils were constricting its body, slowly crushing it. The beast was losing consciousness rapidly as bone and sinew broke within its body, and the tendrils began pulling it into some foreign organism. A new barrage of tendrils latched onto the creature's body, and began tearing through the cracks in its carapace.

With one last monstrous roar of agony, the pack-less primal zerg knew no more.

* * *

><p><em>Yes... we have arrived. Skipped over a few days in warp space, but you didn't miss much.<em>

_Here's a chance for some reader input. If you got that part about the zerg Xeroth travels around with, you'll know he basically has some rare strains, as well as the rejected evolutionary paths. At this point, he'll have the evolved zergling and the evolved roach. There was no time to pick up the splitter banelings. For those of you who are interested, one of the unused Stetmann research logs reads "I've heard reports of hyper-rare mutant strains within the zerg gene pool. Studying some of those would be highly informative."_

_So! Any ideas for rare zerg strains? I have somewhat rigorous standards of plausibility, but I'm interested in seeing any ideas. Also, which type of zergling and roach should Kerrigan's brood have, and by extension, Xeroth have? Since the Swarmling arose from a feral hatchery mutation, it might make more sense to give that one to Kerrigan so that Xeroth could have picked up a few raptor specimens. And lastly, what about rarer non-mutant strains, like the defiler. I know the corruptor's essence is currently lost to the swarm, but that's not to say that there might be a few defilers and devourers hanging around. Surely Abathur could have reconstituted Scourge from the essence found in the nests on Char._

_If you have any ideas or opinions, let me know in a review or PM!_


	4. Chapter 4

A new predator had arrived to Zerus. One that possessed a capability for essence assimilation that outmatched even the native primal zerg. Unique among the invading swarm's biological agents of destruction, the metamorph was lethal and effective. And at the moment, it was very pissed off.

"What do you mean the sequences are incomplete? Are you saying I have to consume _another_ one of these uglies?!"

"Primal zerg sequences: product of iterated wild mutations. Specimens consumed thus far contain unique, uncomplimentary sequences. Cannot reengineer efficient incubation mechanism from combined essence fragments."

I kicked the ground angrily, venting my frustration at the indigenous flora at my feet.

"You're making me kick grass, Abathur! Do you even know how much volatile gas a single one of these critters contains? I swear, they're practically hollow."

"Waste products of continuous rapid anabolism. Will cause discomfort, negligible damage. Ignore. Pursue directive."

As per usual, there was no arguing with my master. This was not turning out to be one of my better days. A few hours ago, my leviathan had finished warping into orbit and had dropped me off on the surface of Zerus while Azara went to rendezvous with Kerrigan's leviathan in order to deliver the terran device.

For the most part, I discovered that many primal zerg functioned as lone hunters, which was good for me. I could pick off almost any single target. Even the larger beasts could be worn down through a series of hit and run tactics. As Abathur had hinted at before, many of the primal zerg had replicated zerg traits. In fact, there were few that had divergent essence worth collecting. One such specimen I had been assigned to consume was a living incubator, something which Abathur hoped to assimilate to create a "swarm host" strain.

Azara was trying to get my attention. Apparently she had successfully delivered our cargo and had been listening in on my conversation with Abathur.

"Perhaps if you stop mutilating the primal swarm hosts' incubation chambers, Abathur will be able to replicate them and begin weeding out the redundancies."

I scoffed at the idea. "And in doing so allow them to fight back? Those little spawn have unreasonably nasty acid, I'd rather not risk it."

My concerns were well-grounded. As a metamorph, my body-mass was still based upon changeling protoplasm, and while I had improved myself sufficiently to resist a fair bit of physical trauma, things like acid and radiation still hurt me more than zerg strains with a proper carapace.

"Abathur said the essence from each primal so far was uncomplimentary. If you continue getting only fragments, we don't know how many you'll have to kill to obtain the sequences he needs."

Azara did have a fair point. Still, I didn't want to let the little pests get any shots off on me. Though they wouldn't be enough to kill me, every bit of damage depleted my biomass reserve. I certainly didn't want my biomass to run out when my luck did. After all, so far I had only been picking off lone primals. If I ran into a pack, I would have to retreat. A few needle spines in the back would be enough to put a damper on anyone's day, even a living weapon with my boundless optimism and cheer.

Thinking about primal zerg packs gave me an idea of my own. I wasn't alone now that Azara had returned. I had a few tricks up my sleeve, or rather, hibernating in the belly of the leviathan overhead. Grinning a little as I planned out my next move, I gave a quick order to my advisor in orbit above me.

"Send down the roaches from Redstone III."

* * *

><p>Abathur was growing increasingly concerned. His latest project, the swarm host, was not progressing on schedule. The queen was currently speaking with the Ancient One, but when she returned, it was likely she would expect him to have a new weapon prepared for her. Abathur did not want to fail to deliver. The queen had been unstable and more hostile than usual ever since she had returned mostly de-infested.<p>

His agent on the far side of the continent was not helping matters either. Much like the augmented broodmother Zagara, who refused to allow him to improve her without a great deal of thrashing, the metamorph possessed an unusual amount of autonomy. Even worse, and unlike Zagara, it had _personality_ – one that confused Abathur to no end.

Then there was the matter of the primal sequences. They were sloppy, and mashed together haphazardly. Unlike the zerg, the primals underwent a natural form of evolution. Accelerated, but not a product of design as was the case with the zerg.

"If evolution product of design, is evolution… evolution?" Abathur mused to himself. Brooding for a few moments, he concluded, "Line of thought: not productive."

And yet, this was one of the few times in his long life that the evolution master was at a loss as to how to be more productive. The primal sequences were an absolute mess, and every specimen was different to an extent that there were no traits he could distill from the multiple primal swarm host fragments he had.

Perhaps the best course of action was to help his assistant directly. Abathur had never worked together with his metamorph in the past, but there was little time now. If Xeroth's work could be streamlined by having Abathur focus his awareness upon him, augmenting his senses and twisting essence into a beneficial symbiote, then perhaps together they could avoid failing their queen. Abathur stretched his awareness, focusing in on the far side of the continent.

Billows of smoke clouded the senses of the overlord network he was using to extend his vision. A massive fire was raging through the forest. Strangely enough, the flames were connected in a crude ring.

* * *

><p>I cackled maniacally as I stepped over the charred corpse of another small creature that had not escaped the flames. My sour mood from earlier had brought out my more sadistic side, and seeing primal zerg and native fauna being scorched by my fire almost made up for the unpleasant business of consuming primal swarm hosts, volatile gas and all. Of course, the idea was not to burn every single organism in this section of the forest. In fact, my weapon of choice here was the smoke.<p>

To that end, I decided it was time to begin directing my roaches to put a halt to the inferno's advance. Giving orders for them to dissolve the fuel ahead with their acid, I let my consciousness hitch a ride on an overlord above to watch my small contingent of roaches march through the flames and spew their corrosive saliva in the fire's path.

I had organized about 30 roaches in a roughly circular formation, with a radius of about the distance I could run in 10 minutes. But these weren't just any roaches. They were mutants that I had recovered from the seismically unstable planet Redstone III. These roaches were the reason the forest was now burning.

The roaches had a unique circulatory system. The fluid they used to distribute nutrients was in fact a gas, while their body were made up of extremely heat-resistant minerals. These roaches could literally walk through lava for short durations. Extreme temperatures would cause their circulatory gas to expand, supercharging their metabolisms and as a result, their already potent regenerative capabilities. This, combined with their heat resilient composition, allowed the roaches to resist being incinerated for at least a couple minutes.

The more useful mutation was offensive. Even out in the open, the roaches had very high body temperatures. To take advantage of this, they had developed glands that produced a fluid with a combustion point lower than that of their bodies. Normally, they would have zero amount of this within them, as it was a danger to themselves. When given a command to begin producing the fluid, the roaches would literally start dripping fire from their pores.

I had begun calling this mutant strain the "ignilisk" in my mind. Of course, monikers were merely devices of convenience for language-capable zerg like myself. I wasn't so sure if giving these roaches a name was wise, because it was likely that more of them would never be produced, as the insulating minerals needed for their bodies as well as their circulatory gasses were rare materials. If I ever got attached to the ignilisks, and then lost them somehow, it would be quite a blow.

How could one not get attached to these marvelous creatures though? I watched a nearby ignilisk as it strode through the scorching blaze. Its carapace was glowing dully in the heat as it continued working on our fuel break with its acid. Its regeneration was completely outpacing any damage the fire surrounding it was inflicting. _Beautiful._

After a few minutes, the fire my zerg had created was beginning to die down. It had burnt hot, and with no more fuel to sustain itself, the flames were quickly receding into embers. For the past couple of minutes, I had sensed Abathur's consciousness lurking. Interestingly, he hadn't intervened. Perhaps, he had understood my plan.

As the smoke cleared, I once again looked through an overlord's eyes to survey the land below. The flames had left a small circular patch of forest untouched. Unfortunately for the organisms that had been seeking refuge from the fire there, the smoke had not. All according to plan. Through the overlord, I had confirmation of what I sought among the bodies. A primal swarm host, suffocated like the rest of the creatures, but completely unmutilated.

Suddenly, I felt my consciousness kicked out of the overlord as Abathur assumed control. "Examining sequences. Complete, yet fragile. Must transport body directly to evolution pit."

"It's all yours, have a field day with it," I said, happy I wouldn't have to consume another primal swarm host. Especially given that I would have had to do so whilst keeping the large incubator intact long enough to extract the information on its essence, which would have meant a lot of uncomfortable stretching of my protoplasm. There was a reason I was a firm advocate for chewing one's food… or breaking it into pieces with tendrils of biomass – same concept really.

Or apparently in the case of the ignilisks, melting flesh and bone into amorphous morsels. My special roaches were now having a field day with the remainder of the suffocated animals we had cornered.

"Hey now, don't be greedy guys. I actually _need_ this stuff to increase my survivability."

With those words, I joined the feast.

* * *

><p>For once, Abathur was glad that the overlords in Kerrigan's brood had pneumatized carapaces by default. He had objected in the past, stating that adding base-level mutations to a brood was inefficient since it would increase the cost per overlord even in situations where that mutation was not needed. Abathur, like many of the old cerebrates and the current broodmothers, preferred to have the mutation available to be integrated if necessary. Understandably, Kerrigan wanted her personal zerg to be as advanced as possible.<p>

In this situation, faster overlords were indeed necessary. The one in particular that was carrying his precious, complete primal swarm host sequence was journeying through the atmosphere so it could avoid primal flyers before descending to where Kerrigan's leviathan was perched. The queen had returned from her conversation with the Ancient One, and now spoke of claiming the power of Zerus. Abathur would have to work fast.

He realized that the overlord would not make it in time to need to descend back to the surface. Already Kerrigan was departing, seeking out some power that was calling to her, guided by the ancient primal. Izsha was beginning to bring the leviathan into geosynchronous orbit above the queen's position.

On the way up, the leviathan opened up a fold of its body and allowed an overlord to fly in. The overlord navigated through the fleshy caverns of its gigantic host, guided by the urgency of the one commanding it. When the corpse of the primal swarm host was deposited in the evolution pit, Abathur wasted no time getting to work.

Immediately, he assimilated its essence into the swarm. Examining it, he let out a low growl of frustration. This was not good. It was too wild, too imperfect. The 'locusts', as he called them, were produced inefficiently. Even the body was poorly designed. It couldn't even burrow, and it had no natural defenses of its own.

There were so many problems with the swarm host that Abathur didn't even know where to start with it. Inside himself, he began altering the assimilated sequence. Removing unwanted repetitive chunks of DNA was easy enough. The essence would have to be streamlined in order to reduce production cost and time. It was still too inefficient…

Izsha had picked up on primals approaching their queen's position. He was running out of time.

Kerrigan's voice invaded the evolution master's mind, speaking in a way that asserted absolute authority and forbid failure to comply. "Abathur, send me the creature you've been working on – the swarm host."

There was no time left. The swarm host was barely ready, hardly modified from its primal counterpart. It still did not even have burrowing capabilities. But the queen's tone of voice left no room for argument. Abathur had the leviathan launch two sacs, and exerted a considerable amount of bio-energy to begin incubating swarm hosts within the sacs. They would be born before the sacs reached the ground.

A minute later, five swarm hosts were by Kerrigan's side. Abathur could barely look at them. They were so clumsy… so unpolished… so _primal._ Impassively, so as not to reveal his disappointment in their incompleteness, Abathur stated, "Adapted using primal essence. Spawns locusts to kill enemies."

At least that much was true. They performed their base function. Xeroth had delivered the intact essence in time, and faster than any other zerg, even a broodmother commanding a small hive, could have. Perhaps there was a place in the swarm for metamorphs after all.

* * *

><p><em>Well there you have it, another chapter! In other news, I recently read through the entirety of "The Swarm Patriarch" and realized that there's also a zergling named Scar in that story. I had completely forgotten. Winter Feline, if you stumble across this, know that no plagiarism was intended <em>:)


End file.
